Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
Questioning everything ever spoke.
Word of God?
Written by man.
Word of law?
Written by money.
Word Wide Web?
Written by mimics.
Sent from the heavens.
Sentenced to the depths of hell.
Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
illist **** ever,
is my ****** vision.
Instinct infact infected
by infinity.
4 inns whipped is a dream of false livin’.
4 scores a symphony,
livid through me.
Peace prosperity,
is an achievement
of dust settlin’.
Sediment seeded seasoned veterans.
I breathe,
I speak,
in granite,
assumed ******.
Instead eyes locked in sight.
Sobriety isn’t suppressed.
I don’t need to confess,
but when I lay my soul to stress,
the expound will be found in heavens bound.
It’s easy to connect the dots,
but it’s difficult to figure the picture out.
Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
Don’t do this,
Don’t do that.
and I’m still dancing like its a victory every time I step foot *****, respect.

We close the curtains on a world less sure,
than yesterday, and all the days that went before
evening comes, and with it falls the night
unyeilding darkness drinks the light
and in its presence fades the sight
of garden gate and fence and lawn
in an anxious world which waits for dawn

at the end of the tunnel my heart trembles,
overwhelmed by waves of telephone rings,
unexecuted promises, ecstasy of a newfound soul
but the threat of a fragile thread, i try to
breathe but the air goes nowhere, and then i
look, mama, the henna on my hand is fading away
i sigh at the inevitability of things, all of this reality
does not feel like reality, we are all in the last stretch
of our escape, i see the light at the end of the dark
ness, but why does it feel like i’m simply standing
still waiting to be kept in another cage. darling,
darling, my henna is wearing thin. i want out,
i want freedom, i want love, i want this anxiety
to fade away like the lovely patterns quickly wearing
thin, thin, thin, to match the colour of my skin.

'Hold it together';
Says the voice in my head.
But my brain is burning
And rotting in dread.

'Stay steady, and grounded';
They tell me once more.
But I'm frozen in worry
Of thoughts that scorn.

'Concentrate now';
They shout quite loud.
As I walk back and forth
Inside this house.

My lungs have no air,
Yet I'm breathing just fine.
'This won't last long';

And neither will I.

Like a window smashed,
waxing accidental cracking of glass;
canyons mapped as light refracts fast,
captured through snapping fragments and gaps.
Hung unintact, procrastinating its shattered collapse,
stress tracks have the last laugh
as paths from impact form webs and traps.
Gilded, a net of gold wraps as fractured attack grasps
before being scattered and blackened to an abstract mass of countless unmatching halves.
Tangled, travelling passions cast into a savagely scratched mask;
mouth closed, asphyxiated, and afraid to gasp.

My mind is dying,
And I with it too.
Thinking is tiring,
I'm empty of fuel.
From working in jobs,
To studies in school.
From speaking with others,
Then losing my cool.

My body is weary,
My brain on fire.
But alas,
I give in.

For I am just too tired.